


not that kind of boy (anymore)

by englishsummerrain



Series: all the little things [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22185763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishsummerrain/pseuds/englishsummerrain
Summary: “You told me I had to wait until I was twenty to have sex with you. It’s now—” Chenle looks at his smartwatch “—36 minutes past midnight on January 7th. I’m definitely twenty. Can we have sex?”
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le
Series: all the little things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602496
Comments: 3
Kudos: 210





	not that kind of boy (anymore)

**Author's Note:**

> jenle nation rise up \o/

Jeno’s riding the high of Chenle carrying his sorry ass in PUBG when it happens. He’s sitting on the floor and Chenle has the couch, long legs stretched out across the cushions, one of Renjun’s shirts kicked on to the floor. Everyone else in the dorm is knocked out from post production exhaustion, but Jeno is wired and awake, feels like he’s ready to take on the world. It’s a new year, he has resolutions, he has new things to do, he doesn’t have time to sleep (never mind the second show they were performing tomorrow). As for Chenle—energy of youth he supposes. It’s always been the excuse he’s used, despite their meager age difference. Chenle just has too much energy for Jeno to comprehend, like he’s the energizer bunny, hip hop hoppity away all the time.

“So,” Chenle says, after Jeno watches his character go down in a four man free for all in a farmhouse. He looks up from his phone and arches an eyebrow at him, causing his stomach to do something funny—maybe some sort of future sight for the next thing that comes out of Chenle’s mouth. “I’m twenty. Can we have sex now?”

Jeno wishes, with all his might, he had a drink to spit out. There’s a glass of water on the coffee table, half full and probably going stagnant, and he considers throwing it him, like he’s a cat caught chewing on a houseplant. 

“What?” is what he says, instead. Like he hadn’t just heard Chenle perfectly fine. No, his hearing is working, but Jeno needs to buy a few seconds to understand what Chenle had just asked him.

“You told me I had to wait until I was twenty. It’s now—” he looks at his smartwatch “—36 minutes past midnight on January 7th. I’m definitely twenty. Can we have sex?”

Jeno experiences the strange sensation of all the blood draining from his face and his cheeks blushing _intensely_ simultaneously. He could feign innocence and pretend he has no idea what Chenle was talking about, but it would be an awful lie. He fully remembers the moment he’d said it. 

He and Chenle had been making out last year in his bed. They’d skipped class, for whatever reason Jeno couldn’t remember now, and the stillness of the dorm when they’d arrived back had shocked him. Chenle had been frisky, burning, had ideas that weren’t the movie Jeno had put on on his laptop and somehow, they’d ended up on the mattress. He hadn’t been a half bad kisser, a lot more restrained than Jaemin for sure (though Jaemin was the kind of person that really only thought with his dick when it came to kissing, shoved his tongue straight down your throat and got spit everywhere). Jeno’s shirt was pushed up and Chenle was pressing kisses all over his stomach and Jeno was uncomfortably aware of how hard he was getting and how weird the entire situation was. It had felt like he was stuck in freefall of a sudden. 

He’d stopped Chenle, and when Chenle had asked why—no anger, no disappointment, just curiosity and what did I do wrong?—Jeno had told him he wanted to wait until he was twenty.

Chenle, apparently, was petty. Or picky. Or really wanted this. That last one was a bit too much to think about right now.

“I didn’t think you’d remember that,” Jeno says. 

Chenle shrugs. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I want to. I’ll ask someone else if you don’t.”

“I’m your first choice?” Jeno asks. That’s surprising. Jisung was straight as far Jeno knew, but Jaemin certainly was not and he was just as close with Chenle as Jeno was. 

“Jeno,” Chenle says. Flat voice, like he’s tired. “I’ve had a crush on you since high school, you idiot.”

Jeno blinks. That’s entirely new information. He starts filtering their past interactions through the lens of the confession and doesn’t feel like he’s coming up with anything, looks at Chenle and squints his eyes. “Really?”

Chenle slides off the couch and sits beside him, legs tucked to the side, facing him. 

“It’s clearly not for your intelligence, huh?”

“You’re really not making this up?”

“You’ve got like four months until April Fools. No, I’m not making this up. By the way Donghyuck is talking about pouring ice water in your bed, just a heads up. For April Fools I mean.”

“Donghyuck’s pranks are way better than that.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Chenle says. “Which makes me think it’s a diversion. Which makes me think he knows that I’d tell you. So maybe he isn’t actually lying and it’s a double bluff.”

It’s a twisted train of thought, but Jeno gets the gist. Thinks it makes sense.

“We’re going in circles now,” Jeno says.

“Right.”

The fridge hums and the two of them make a weird kind of eye contact—like they’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. Chenle bites his lip and Jeno tries not to think about kissing him. Pretty futile considering he’s been doing it for the past six months—and worse—but at least Jeno can say he tried. He’s the kind of person who gives everything a go before giving up. A go getter. The thing is—he has no reason not to say yes to Chenle now.

“Okay,” Jeno says. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Chenle smiles. It’s sweet but there’s a bite. Jeno is suddenly aware of how attractive Chenle is and he files that away for later. 

“Not here though,” he adds. Chenle rolls his eyes and reaches up to pick his phone up off the couch. 

“Well yes, I figured that was obvious.”

“I mean don’t kiss me here. Anyone could come out.”

“We just had a conversation about making out and now you’re worried about doing it?”

Chenle does have a point, but Jeno kind of skirts around it.

“Let me take a shower first, okay? I’ll meet you in my room.”

Chenle’s smile is bright, but there’s a flutter behind it. He’s not an actor like Jeno—or the rest of the dorm for that matter, Jeno was still unsure how he’d ended up with a house full of theatre kids—and not as good at disguising the tells as Jeno is, and Jeno reads it. Excitement. Nerves. A burn of something darker.

  
  
  


Jeno turns the water up scalding and stands in front of the sink, steam floating around him as he lets all the thoughts he’d caged run lose in his head. He’d assumed when Chenle said sex he’d meant fucking—but what if it was something else? What if he just wanted to frot until they came? What if he wanted to blow Jeno? He’d probably have used more specific language though, right? Or questioned why Jeno was showering again so soon after the first.

Truth be told he doesn’t need to stretch himself that much—regular toying did that well enough for him—but he wants to make sure he’s ready. The plug goes in with ease, a brief push and tingling burn before it slips in, wide pressure, a pleasant stretch. It’s been a long time since Jeno has had anyone’s dick up his ass and as he cleans himself off in the shower—makes sure to really get the stink of stage sweat out of his skin—he finds himself anticipating it. Wonders what it will be like. He remembers his first time (with Jaemin naturally) and how nervous he’d been. What if he came straight away? What if it was bad? There's so many what ifs that as soon as one falls into his head it's on the way out, replaced by more like a traffic pile up of thoughts in his brain.

He doesn’t bother dressing in anything more than his bathrobe, just dries off as much as possible and slinks back to his room. Chenle is sitting on the bed playing on his phone, and he looks up when Jeno enters. He gives him a smile and drops his phone on the bedside table.

“Hi,” he says. It’s light and casual. 

“Hi,” Jeno echoes. He’s not sure what to do now, but thankfully Chenle covers him and pats his hand on the mattress. He sits down beside him and his robe opens slightly, damp skin cool in the heated air. He doesn’t miss Chenle’s eyes darting down. It makes something bolt through him—anticipation, maybe. Arousal. 

“What’re we doing?” Jeno asks. Chenle blushes a little, cheeks splotching red, but he recovers.

“Uh. Sex? Fucking?”

It’s crass, but Jeno gets it. “Is this your first time?”

Chenle nods. “Yeah. Of course.”

_Of course._ “I’m just checking,” Jeno laughs. “Alright. Umm.”

Chenle’s eyes flick up and down him, their movement sending a wave of heat through Jeno’s skin, along with a telltale twitch of his dick. He reaches out a hand and puts it on Jeno’s knee, spreads his fingers wide. 

“Can I look?” Chenle asks. Jeno—he’s embarrassed, a little, but the exhibitionist part of him always beats the part of him that makes him feel ashamed. He nods. 

Chenle doesn’t hesitate. He undoes the knot of Jeno’s robe and Jeno has to stop himself from breathing heavily, heat pricking all over his skin as the robe falls open. Chenle lays a hand flat against Jeno’s stomach and looks him in the eyes, holds it for a second while he feels him breathe. It’s intense in a strange way, like he’s being looked through and Chenle is peering into his brain. Then Chenle looks down. Looks away. Then back again, gaze on Jeno’s cock. 

“Huh,” Chenle says. Jeno’s stomach drops and then he continues with: ”It looks nice. Can I touch?”

“You can do anything,” Jeno says. His brain is already switching gears, relaxing and falling into aroused mode—where he’s pliant and willing, down for almost anything and gentle and needy. Chenle runs the tip of his pointer finger along the length of Jeno’s cock and Jeno’s next breath is laboured, a wordless beg for more.

“We haven’t even kissed and I want to put it in my mouth,” Chenle says. He laughs, not the high pitched dolphin laugh they all teased him for, but something sweet and happy. Full of all that unbridled enthusiasm Jeno loves about him. His eyes flick up to Jeno’s and he wraps his hand around Jeno’s cock, watching his for reaction. Jeno’s mouth drops open for a second and he whimpers. Chenle smiles. Strokes at him, slowly and methodical.

“Do you want me to do that?” 

It’s both a tease and a genuine question, and Jeno nods, already feeling arousal cascade through him, his dick hardening with every stroke of Chenle’s hand.

"You can keep touching me if you want. It's nice."

"Okay," Chenle says. He leans in and presses a kiss to Jeno's mouth, light as a feather, holds himself there and just breathes in Jeno's air, the stroke of his hand methodical and slow. It feels so fucking _good_ to have him this close, to have Chenle be this sure with him. He knows what he wants and he's taking it.

Another kiss, slow, exploring. Seared with an edge of anticipation. An urgency the two of them don't need to have. There's all the time in the world, and yet Jeno can understand it. He wants more.

Chenle stands, beckoning Jeno up with him, and as soon as he's on his feet Chenle is back on him. He kisses him with an abrupt force, cupping Jeno’s face with both hands and holding him there, pressing kisses against his mouth until he can free a hand to push Jeno’s robe to the floor. He pulls off his own shirt and Jeno runs a hand across his chest. He’s seen him shirtless hundreds of times before but there’s an energy here—Jeno’s allowed to enjoy it. The tiniest definition to his pectorals, his soft stomach. The way his waist narrows and the faint V that dips into his waistband. He rubs a finger against a nipple and Chenle lets out a soft moan, nearly a breath with how quiet it is. 

Jeno ends up on his back, Chenle beside him and pressing kisses to his abs, one hand stroking Jeno’s cock lazily. He’d already spotted the plug and pushed at the base, teased Jeno and then asked how big it was.

“Medium sized? Why?”

“I don’t want to hurt you!”

“I’ll be fine,” Jeno said. “Geeze, Chenle. As long as you’re not hiding Thor’s hammer I think we’re okay.”

Chenle gives another laugh, eyes crinkling into crescents, and dips back down to press more kisses to skin. His tongue darts out, runs along the definition of Jeno’s muscle, and all the while his eyes are on Jeno’s, dark, watching. Jeno doesn’t know if he can stand having Chenle’s mouth so fucking close to his dick, not especially while Chenle is just _staring_ at him with an intent that belies he’s been thinking about this a long time.

Jesus, that’s a thought. All those after class makeouts had to mean something, right? It wasn’t just that Chenle _liked_ making out with him. There was a genuine attraction there, something beyond the coy smiles and the flirty touches on dinner outings, all the hands that lingered a little too long and nights spent sitting on each other’s beds and playing games together. Jeno thinks he might be reading a bit too much into it but—whatever. He has Chenle in his bed. Or maybe, more accurately, Chenle has him in his bed. 

“Okay?” Chenle asks. He’s so fucking close to him. Jeno nods, not trusting his voice to behave. He was probably right to because Chenle is _there_ , breath puffing against his skin. He tilts his head, like he’s sizing up Jeno’s cock and reaches out with his tongue tentatively to lick at the underside.

“Tastes like—” he starts, licks again. “Tastes like soap?”

Jeno—despite that fact that he’s ridiculously turned on and basically jonesing to be touched by anything more than the unmoving circle of Chenle’s fist—laughs.

“I took a shower. What did you expect?” 

Chenle gives him a _look_ , the kind hardened from the past year of having to live with Renjun’s biting sarcasm. The kind of look that says ‘are you fucking serious?’.

Jeno doesn’t have time for a quip. Chenle’s mouth is on his dick and his brain goes out the window. He gasps and Chenle looks up at him, panicked, Jeno’s cock falling out of his mouth as he pulls off.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s good,” Jeno says. Can’t help but smile, the kind of grin that makes his eyes crinkle up, because Chenle is so endearing. “That was a good sound.”

“Oh my god,” Chenle says with a laugh. “I was worried I’d bitten you or something.”

“No, you’re fine,” Jeno says. Chenle presses a kiss to the underside of his cock again.

“Okay,” he says. Another long lick, swirling his tongue around the head, peppering kisses that make Jeno bite his tongue. He licks down and cups a hand around his balls, takes one into his mouth and sucks so gently Jeno swears he’s going to go absolutely insane. Jeno moans, muffled by his fist in his mouth. It causes Chenle to flinch, but then he’s back at it, tongue travelling upwards. He takes Jeno back into his mouth with a soft wet noise, and there’s less hesitation now. Soft noises like kisses, the bob of his head. His eyes still on Jeno’s, like he somehow knows it’s the best way to drive him crazy. Jeno wants to look away, thinks it might be too intense, but he can’t. Chenle is enchanting. He looks so fucking _hot_ Jeno could cry.

“I kind of like this,” Chenle says, after he pulls off with a wet pop, precum and saliva smeared across his pink lips. His cheeks are flushed rosy and his pupils are blown, blush creeping down his neck to the bare expanse of his shoulders. “Can we do it again later?”

“Slow down hotshot,” Jeno says. Chenle grins at him, cheeky, covers his mouth with his hand and laughs.

“Sorry, was that too much?”

“No, it’s just—it’s nice. Do you want me to suck your cock?”

He ducks his head. “I think I’ll come if you do,” he says, mumbling.

Jeno splays a hand across his back, jumps slightly at how warm Chenle’s skin is. “That’s okay. Next time then?”

“Next time.”

There’s a second where they readjust, Chenle ending up hovering over Jeno, their faces close. He drops a kiss on his lips, then another. Their bodies fall together and Jeno pushes up into him, slips his hands under his waistband and digs them into the muscles of his ass. Chenle pants into his mouth, spurring him on, and Jeno pulls them apart to kiss along his jawline, eliciting a series of whines and moans from Chenle, each better than the last. He’s grinding against Jeno, movements of his hips without rhyme or reason—just a craving for more. Jeno sucks at the skin below his ear and Chenle _moans_ , full and deep. It sends tingles up Jeno’s spine, a shock of lust to his gut, his dick jumping and his entire body responding to the sound and the sheer want that it contains.

“Chenle,” Jeno says. One hand in his hair, other still on his ass. He pulls his head back and kisses his neck, biting and sucking, forgetting what he was trying to do before Chenle pants out a ‘what’ in reply.

“I want you to fuck me,” Jeno says. Chenle shakes in his hands, head bowing, and Jeno showers him with kisses. Across his jaw, the corners of his lips and the tip of his nose, before kissing him deep and long, their breath mingling, Chenle’s tongue in his mouth. They part with a wet smack, and Chenle is breathless, panting as he falls back onto his knees, still straddling Jeno.

“Okay,” he says, nodding. Smiles with a giddiness that looks beautiful on him, poured all over the nervous flush of his skin and making him glow. “Um. How?”

Jeno laughs—god, he’s so fucking happy he can laugh right now. He’s happy they’re close enough that there’s nothing awkward about this. It’s what sex should be to him—able to be amusing despite how awkward it really was.

“Top drawer. There’s lube and condoms.”

Chenle nods and climbs off him, pulls open the draw of the nightstand and pulls the aforementioned items out. Jeno just enjoys the view—the planes of his back, red marks on his neck like tiny roses, blooming where Jeno had maybe bit a little too hard. He throws a glance over his shoulder and drops the items on the top of the draws and undoes the clasp on his jeans. 

Jeno can’t help himself—he draws a sharp breath through his teeth. His heart pounds in his ears as Chenle drops his jeans to the floor and hooks his fingers in the waistband of his boxers. His cock catches on them as he pulls them down and then springs back up, a few drops of precum splattering against his stomach.

“Christ,” Jeno says. His mouth is watering, he realizes, but he doesn’t even care. He can’t stop staring at Chenle’s dick, and it causes a hunger to brew inside of him—a need to be fucked until he can’t remember his own name. “Christ, I really wish I could suck your cock.” 

It’s so shameless that Jeno knows he’s gone—struck with the realisation that in a few minutes Chenle is going to be _inside him—_ and it sets him alight. He’s suddenly desperate, aware of the plug inside him, of every movement of Chenle’s hands—the crinkle of the condom wrapper as he tears it open, fingers deft where he rolls it on.

“Next time,” he says. He picks up the lube bottle and smiles, and Jeno is scrambling to pull the plug out of his ass—he tosses it on the floor to deal with later. There's an emptiness he's left with, but he knows it'll be gone soon. 

“What’s the—do I fuck you like this?”

“Uh,” Jeno says. His brain is frazzled, like sparks arcing between a cut wire, things not quite making sense. “You can. It’s probably easier if I’m on my front.”

“Okay,” Chenle says. Jeno feels a wave of heat roll through his body. “Yeah, what’s easiest. For this time.”

Jeno nods frantically and turns over, gets up on his knees. The bed dips and he feels the heat of Chenle’s body hovering over his—contact as he presses flush against him to press a kiss to the knob of his spine. The slide of his cock lying between his cheeks, so close to his hole.

“Okay,” Chenle repeats. “Just. Tell me if anything is.”

“It’s fine,” Jeno says. His breath comes short—Chenle’s too, pants harsh. “Please. Just. I need you inside me.”

He tries his best not to sound desperate but it’s pretty poor. It doesn’t matter. The touch of Chenle’s fingertip is cold, lube being smeared around his hole, and then it’s replaced with the head of his cock. Blunt pressure—god, Jeno can’t help but moan, drop to his elbows, bowing his head into the pillow and pushing his ass into the air. Jeno knows he can take it. It feels incredible knowing that it’s Chenle inside of him and that he’d waited for this. That he’d wanted Jeno to be his first, no-one else. 

Jeno moans, low and desperate, just as Chenle lets out a similar noise.

“Holy shit,” Chenle says. “Oh my god. Holy fuck you’re tight, what the fuck.”

Jeno would laugh in any other situation—here it just sets him alight and causes him to let out a keening whine. “More,” he says. Chenle obliges, pushes into him more, until he’s almost bottomed out, until Jeno feels skin on skin, the heat rising off Chenle, skin sweaty. His hands grip at his hips and Chenle gasps, rocking minutely inside of him. 

This is Jeno’s favorite feeling in the world—the sensation of being filled, of having a cock inside him, feeling when he clenches his muscles. The intimacy of a body against his. Knowing too, that this is Chenle’s first makes it even better. He feels special. Trusted. It's just the two of them and this thing they have between each other, just their bodies together, just Chenle's hands on him, touching every part of him, grasping at his cock, stroking his back, rubbing circles on the muscle of his ass. 

And then there’s the drag as Chenle pulls out. 

“Yes,” Jeno says, the syllable drawing out with the drag of the cock inside him. “You feel so good. C’mon Chenle.”

“I am,” Chenle says. “Holy shit, you’re so tight. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“The only way I won’t be okay is if you don’t fuck me right now,” Jeno says, and it comes ripped from him, through gritted teeth and a burning need to feel movement and feel Chenle fuck him. 

Chenle listens. He moves into a slow rhythm, each thrust pulling whining gasps from Jeno’s lungs. Cock pushing him open. He smears more lube onto it and thrusts hard, creating a smack as his hips hit Jeno’s ass. 

“Harder,” Jeno says. “Go harder. Fuck me, please.”

Again—so good to him. Chenle listens, fucks into him quicker. It sends rockets of pleasure all over Jeno’s skin and he has no shame, moans with every thrust, the sensation too much to hold back anymore. The bed creaks and the slap of skin on skin is like ecstasy, punctuated by Chenle’s cursing and stuttered moans of telling Jeno how good he feels. How tight he is. How good he takes his cock. 

Jeno knows. He’s proud of it—a champion cock taker. In a moment of lustful madness he wonders if he can have a trophy for it, then loses the thought with the next slam inside of him. Instead he wraps a hand around himself, unable to hold back anymore, and starts to stroke, hand smeared with the precum, ass in the air as he gets pounded.

“Jeno,” Chenle says. “Gonna come. Gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, you’re so good. I’m gonna come.”

He spills with a breathy moan, pushing himself to the hilt in Jeno’s ass, shoving him up the mattress with the force of the thrust. Jeno jerks himself as hard as he can, focusing on the sensation of the cock buried inside of him and the sound of Chenle’s moans—and then he comes, a white light punch to the chest that sends heat and pleasure rushing all over him as he spills into his hand.

Jeno collapses, Chenle’s hands no longer holding him up, his cock sliding out of his ass and leaving him feeling strangely empty. He turns his head sideways to see Chenle lean over and grab a handful of tissues, and then wrap the condom in them to yeet it into the trashcan. He falls over beside Jeno, breathing laboured and heavy, sweat sticky on his skin. Hand on Jeno’s back, fingers splayed. He’s spent and exhausted, but there’s a warm glow in him. The kind of bliss that only comes from good sex, from getting your brains fucked out—or fucking someone until they can’t remember their own name.

Chenle presses a lazy kiss to Jeno’s lips, then another, and another, open mouthed, tongue barely passing his lips, a ghost of the makeout session they’d had beforehand.

“That was worth waiting for,” Chenle says. Face so close to Jeno’s, sharp cheekbones, pink lips, kiss-bitten. Jeno smiles, post orgasmic haze settled in his brain, eyes lidded and a dopey kind of adoration sitting in his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“Not bad for a first time?”

“You were great. Don’t know about me.”

“You were amazing,” Jeno says, truthfully. The memory—fresh off the press and still in the process of being filed away in his brain—is hot and heavy. Sensations of their skin mingling, how it felt to be stretched open, Chenle's kisses and his body being so close to him. It’s good.

Chenle smiles. Shy, but more confident now. He presses another kiss to Jeno’s lips. 

“And next time?” he asks.

“I’m sure it’ll be even better.” 

  
  



End file.
